Tangled Up in You
by erumaren-ainulindale
Summary: When he comes across a seemingly abandoned tower, headstrong thief Ikkaku is ready to live a life of peace and train for the battle of his dreams... but its reclusive resident has other plans. When your lifelong dream comes true, what more can you do but pursue a new one? Tangled AU with magical hair, a mad scientist on the hunt for immortality, bloodlust, and a pink horse. M/M


**Tangled Up in You**

IkkaYumi Tangled AU by erumaren-ainulindalë

**Warning: Not even a remotely dignified literary work. Lots of deviations from the actual movie's plot. Also sex**

_This is the story of how I died. But don't worry, it's actually kind of a fun story… if you're a sick son of a bitch. And the truth is, it's not even mine. This is the story of a man named Yumichika. It starts with a flower._

_So once upon a time a drop of sunlight fell from the heavens (don't you fuckin' question me) and landed right by the edge of a sea-cliff. From there a magical purple flower grew which could heal the sick and injured. When this scientist named Mayuri Kurotsuchi came across it in the wilderness, he harnessed its power to keep himself alive for centuries by singing a special song. How he reached that conclusion I don't even want to know. Not far from the flower's location ruled a warrior king and queen whose subjects adored them, and eagerly awaited the birth of a new prince or princess – but when Queen Unohana went into labor, she got so sick that only a miracle could save her._

_Rumors of the magical healing flower reached her husband, King Zaraki, who had always hated and distrusted magic. Now even he was willing to use the flower if it meant saving his wife and child. When the search team finally located it, they plucked it right from the ground and crushed it up into an unsalvageable paste. _

_As you can imagine, this pissed Kurotsuchi off to no end; he'd been saving that flower for centuries, trying to find a way to create a more convenient immortality serum from its power. Continuing his lifelong research would require drastic measures._

_The flower healed Queen Unohana and allowed her to birth a lovely baby boy, Yumichika, born with hair the same color as its magical petals. The whole kingdom rejoiced while Kurotsuchi hatched his plan to gather some data from the royal newbie. About a month later, he paid a nighttime visit to the castle if only to restore all the life he'd lost waiting._

_You know, none of this would have happened if the king and queen had been responsible enough to put the kid in their own room instead of separate, all alone, with no guards, and the window unlocked… but I digress. _

_When Kurotsuchi sang his special song over little Yumi's bed, his hair began to glow with healing magic. However, the lock Kurotsuchi cut off for his own stock turned black and lots its abilities forever. So pretty much fuck that._

_His only chance at continuing research – and life – was to have the child for himself. So when the king and queen awoke next morning to check on their brand new munchkin, Kurotsuchi had long since leapt out the window and taken him to a faraway secluded tower where even the royal guard would never look. There, he raised the boy as his own, filling his head with the notion that going outside meant certain death, that people were dangerous and would only take advantage of him, while at the same time using his magical hair day in and day out to keep himself young and conduct experiments on immortality. _

_Although he tried to keep his new "flower" hidden at all costs, Kurotsuchi could not stop willful little Yumichika from dreaming of the outside world. Every year on his birthday, he would watch from the window as a huge flurry of lanterns took to the sky. The ritual signified Queen Unohana, King Zaraki, and their subjects' enduring hope that one day, just maybe, the lost prince would return home._

Chapter One – The Start of the Beginning

"Seven AM, the usual morning bull-shit," Yumichika grumbled to himself as he slid out of bed, eager for the night to come so he could sleep off the torturous boredom of life. Oh, if only Father Mayu would harvest some nightshade on his next trip… but that was surely too much to ask. After all, the scientist never cleaned up his own messes and he needed his son awake to pull him up from the ground below by his long, durable hair. Their tower was impregnable without that strange mode of entrance.

He hummed to himself as he swept, same as every day, making sure to eliminate each solitary speck of dust. Cleanliness meant little to him, but it was the only thing worth concentrating on around here. At least today was a somewhat special occasion – his eighteenth birthday! He hoped Father Mayu would bring home something nice from his current trip, but most likely the old man had forgotten as he did most years.

"I'm officially an adult today," Yumi mused aloud to his own reflection, passing by the large mirror on his way to retrieve more cleaning supplies. Letting the broom rest against a doorframe, he struck a sexy pose and pushed a lock of hair from behind his ear. "A very beautiful adult, no less." Smirking, he returned to his menial task with a renewed sense of energy. Father Mayu may have been eccentric, neglectful, and brimming with underhanded comments, but at least he'd taught his son the importance of youth and good looks. Yumichika was thankful, for he could spend hours admiring his own reflection and talking to himself (the only worthy companion in existence) while dull days passed.

Once the floors, walls, banisters, and practically every nook and cranny had been polished to perfection, Yumichika eagerly perched on the chest beside his bed to face the particularly overused mirror. He had a lot to talk about today. Selecting a soft brush from the overflowing box of hair accessories, he closed his eyes and began to run it through his violet locks. Every now and then the boredom subsided long enough to allow some small joy. "Eighteen," he whispered to himself. "Can you believe it? I'm all grown up – seems like just yesterday my hair was only ten feet long." Sucking in a breath, he opened his equally violet eyes and stared at himself to gather courage. "I have to do it today. If not now, when? Father Mayu would surely agree that I'm old enough to go outside for once."

The silken locks contained no knots whatsoever. If the house was clean, his hair was even cleaner, always shined and brushed and washed to perfection. Yumi didn't like the small black strands behind his left ear, which Father Mayu explained as a "childhood mishap," but it stayed hidden easily enough. Knowing that cutting the hair stripped it of its power, Yumichika protected it at all costs. He breathed in the sweet scent of shampoo as he tried to calm the hammering in his chest. Today, as his journey of manhood began, he would finally ask Father Mayu to let him leave.

Surely the man would allow him just one day! Well, one night, really – he didn't care, so long as he got to go where those floating lights came from. The beautiful azure and wisteria lights that drifted along like leaves on a glassy lake, joining the stars to add a touch of beauty to his monotonous existence. He sighed dreamily at the thought. Since before memory, those lights had _called_ to him, drawn him in like nothing else could.

"He has to say yes," Yumichika told himself. "He just _has_ to. It's my dream."

After his hair had been sufficiently brushed, Yumichika couldn't get the lights out of mind. Skipping to the small box of paints in the corner, he chose the darkest blue available and some complementaries as well, then white and yellow to mix. Humming a random tune to himself, he dumped everything before the last wall space not already covered in designs and pictures: a pointed arch just above the spice shelf he'd uncovered earlier that day. It would do perfectly. Paint-scent dizzied him as he swept the brush back and forth, using both hands effortlessly to create what he saw in mind.

Placing the finishing touches, Yumichika realized it all seemed a bit empty without the most important aspect. So, using the last bits of violet he'd mixed together, he made a wavy line down the slope and a crude faraway shape of his own figure, sitting and staring up at the beautiful sky. Every year on his birthday they appeared. No other time. It had to mean something!

At that moment a voice came through from the side window. A mix of dread and excitement built up like always. Father Mayu was the only person Yumichika knew, and without him the place could get slightly lonely… but the man's presence was not always entirely comforting.

"Yumichika! Let down your haaaaair!"

"Coming!" Yumichika tossed a handful over the rafter and made a quick loop as always, then threw down the rest for his father to climb.

When Mayuri got inside he moved straight to the private lab Yumichika was not allowed to enter. His son was left with a finger extended in the air, mouth hanging open, having just lost his chance to make the request while it was still fresh in mind. Oh well, he had to come out of there sometime for the hair-brushing ritual, and when he did, Yumichika would make him listen!

The lab door slammed open several moments later and out strode the tower patron in all his glory. Yumichika had grown used to Father Mayu's odd look overtime; in fact, he didn't think much of it at all. As far as he knew, there were only two humans in this world as beautiful as they, and the rest were beasts of gnarled fur and sharp fangs who would sooner tear out a young boy's throat than hear a plea for mercy. Mayuri Kurotsuchi saw everything as a test subject, even himself. He claimed that years of perfecting his body had reduced his own beastly appearance and that Yumichika was lucky enough to be born different from other men. It made the boy feel special to know he wasn't like the scary folk outside, but an itch of doubt sometimes came through when his father told those tales of monsters and kidnappers. After all, he left the tower all the time and never came back with a single mark, and the books Yumichika taught himself to read always seemed to describe handsome princes rather than scary ones. Mayuri told him they were only fantasy.

"Father!" Yumichika greeted, clasping his hands in anticipation and following the man's quick strides across the floor. "How was your trip today? You didn't run into any trouble, did you? I missed you, you know. Find anything interesting out there? It's been the same around here, nothing to report-"

Mayuri cut him off. "Well then why are you talking?" After a beat, he cackled and slammed a hand onto Yumi's shoulder. "Just kidding, little flower! But listen, daddy's veeeeeery tired, so why don't sing him a song?" He looked exhausted, it was true. He seemed several years older, as always after going more then a couple of days without brushing the magic hair.

"Oh, right!" Yumichika darted off to find the chair where he'd sit every few days to help Father Mayu gather strength. It was the only time the two of them really bonded, so he didn't mind. Besides, using his hair's power had always been a source of pride.

As Mayuri took his seat behind him and began to run the brush down through purple strands, Yumichika sang, more quickly than usual, the words his father taught him long ago. When he finished Mayuri looked much more rested, healthy, and young than he had just seconds prior. He smiled to himself until Yumi turned around to start talking again. It was hard to feign interest in the little lout's babbling sometimes.

"So… today's kind of a special day, isn't it?" Yumichika bit his lip and waited for a response.

Father Mayu's eyebrow rose. "No more special than any other," he replied.

Yumichika's head tilted to the side as he wrung his hands together nervously. He had forgotten again, but that was okay! Once he remembered, he would surely be willing to give him what he wanted. "Well, it's kinda my birthday. My eighteenth birthday actually!"

Mayuri's lips curled up in a sneer. "Mmm, no. That's impossible. Why, you were just a little sprout yesterday. By the by, stop wringing your hands like that, you know how stupid it makes you look- _I'm just kidding_, flower, you're so cute!"

Yumichika forced a laugh. "Haha, I know, but… today _is_ my birthday, and I'd really like to-"

"Of cooourse it is!" Mayuri interrupted. "And I know just what you want, too. Well, you'll be happy to know I found some fresh mushrooms at the market today! Tell you what – you leave daddy alone for a few hours so he can make your favorite dish." He poked Yumi's nose in conclusion of the conversation.

"I'm allergic to mushrooms." Mayuri didn't seem to hear. For a second, Yumichika considered dropping the subject altogether, his confidence having faltered significantly throughout the one-sided conversation. But then a surge of determination flowed through when he remembered it was now or never. "Father, wait!"

The other man froze, rolling his yellow eyes before turning to face Yumichika with a poorly fashioned smile. "Yes, what is it now?"

"Well, I've been thinking. Since it's my birthday and all, and since I am technically an adult… maybe it's time you let me leave the tower? Just for one day! Only long enough for me to see the floating lights!" He gestured nervously to the drying paint, depicting the objects in question on a blue night sky.

Mayuri tried to maintain his composure. "Why, Yumichika," he said through clenched teeth. "You could see the stars perfectly from right here!"

Yumichika held up his hands in defense. "Yeah, but these are different. Every year, these blue and purple lights go flying through the sky – _only_ on my birthday! I can't help but think that they were meant for me…"

His patience was wearing thin now. "Well, you can see your floating lights from inside, can't you? I just don't think it's time… in fact, it never will be. Quite frankly I'm tired of hearing about this nonsense. You won't risk your life over a foolish whim."

Crestfallen, Yumi began to twist his hair. "B-but, not even just for a few minutes? And, I know I can handle myself out there, especially if you go with me. Please, please, father, I don't ask for much, just let me-"

The taller man shook his head. His patience was wearing thinner by the second. "Even knowing what's out there, you insist on leaving our safe haven? Yumichika, there are men with fangs dripping in venom, men with no hearts, no brains, who'd turn to beasts when they saw a pretty thing like you. Someone so weak, feeble-minded, and awkward as yourself wouldn't last twelve seconds beyond the yard."

"I'm strong," Yumichika asserted. "I do fifty push-ups a day, and…" rebellion stirred in his gut as he blurted, "if the people out there are so bad, why are you allowed to leave while I'm trapped?"

"ENOUGH!" Mayuri's voice boomed, making his son flinch and draw back in fear. "You will NEVER leave this tower, understand? EVER! Don't even think of making such a MORONIC request, EVER again!"

Silence rang through the room for a few long seconds before the scientist sank back with an exasperated sigh. "Great. I must look like a terrible father. Is it so wrong to protect one's own? Is it so _wrong_ that I don't want you torn to shreds by men with monstrous pointy claws? I must know, Yumichika, why you insist on challenging me at every turn. After all I've done for you." His ghostly white hand splayed across his chest as if hurt by the very notion.

Yumichika swallowed his guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I-I just feel so alone up here sometimes."

A clammy finger went under his chin, lifting his face to meet Mayuri's inhuman eyes. "You have me," he insisted gently. "And besides, I only keep you here for your own safety, Flower. No one must ever find you, or I simply could not live anymore. You're my everything." He bent his son's head and kissed the smooth violet hair.

Yumichika sighed. It was decided, then. He would never reach his dream.

_At least not so long as Father Mayu is around_, he thought to himself, a spark of defiance overshadowing guilt and devotion. He should have known the old man wouldn't understand… but in all the books he read, princesses got married and left home, boys went to war, people had adventures long before the age of eighteen. It was time for him to join them. "I'm sorry, father. That was wrong. But – there is one thing I'd really like for my birthday."

"And what's that?" Mayuri withdrew his finger from the boy's chin.

"Some new books? The ones with poems and stories, with lots of words instead of pictures. I need something to do while you're gone or I might go crazy." He smiled sheepishly.

Mayuri's lips formed a thin line as he thought over the request. "You have plenty of books."

"Books that I've read at least a hundred times each, Father."

"I'd have to travel all the way to the scholars' keep for that. It's nearly a three days trip you know."

Yumichika shrugged in false resignation. "Alright, I just thought it was a more reasonable request than going outside."

Done with the conversation from the start, Mayuri gave in at the mere thought of further insistence and begging. He ran a hand over his headdress and sighed. "Fine. Just promise me, after this, you will never ask to leave our tower again. Let me hear you say it."

"I promise I'll never ask to leave."

After Father Mayu disappeared into the woods for his journey, Yumichika stayed at the window and gazed outside. The sky still shone brightly in the late morning. It would be a while before his lights appeared.

And he was determined to be outside when they did.

* * *

"Holy shit, look how high up we are! I can see the whole kingdom from here! Well, at least a fourth of it. Or maybe like a fifth… but still! _Wooooooow_!"

A metallic clanging brought Ikkaku's attention to the skylight, where his fellow thieves waved their arms in a frantic attempt to shush him. "Idiot!" Renji hissed, coiling the rope around his left arm. "Do you want to draw every guard in the castle? This is stealth mission, man!"

Ikkaku paid him no mind. "You're not even seein' this view. Maybe if ya did stop the smell the roses now and then your ass wouldn't be tight enough to crush rocks."

"Where'd that come from, I ain't no tight-ass!" Renji quickly gasped and hunkered down, realizing how loud his voice had gotten.

"Pshh, you never let me have any fun. Maybe I do wanna draw the guards up here, huh? I ain't had a good fight in forever, ya know. It eats at me, like real bad."

Tetsuzaemon Iba shook his head as he listened to their voices steadily rise. "Skylight's gonna be open in about two seconds and ya both better be done fingerin' each other's pussies by then."

Ignoring their obnoxious protests, he simply wrenched open the wooden piece so the others had no choice but to pipe down. His finger pointed through the entrance where Renji and Ikkaku craned their necks to see the most beautiful vision imaginable.

"There it is," Renji whispered. Ikkaku slapped his head. "Now who's drawin' attention?"

Iba frantically placed his finger before his lips. Using only hand gestures, he instructed Ikkaku to lower himself down and grab the sword… _quietly_. Ikkaku nodded, put on his serious face, and let the other two hook him up to a crude harness and rope.

The guards standing post didn't seem too interested in actually looking over their backs. Ikkaku eyed them as he lowered gently down, thankful for the blind spot in their positions. All day long they watched a big door, ready to protect the lost prince's sword with their miserable lives if push came to shove. While the queen was still pregnant, the city's top smiths had forged a blade fit only for royalty to present to her child regardless of gender. Only a warrior king like Zaraki would present a sword to an infant, but it had been an ideal gift and to this day the king kept it sharp and polished for its intended owner. Ikkaku thought it was a great shame to waste such perfect steel on wishful thinking.

Now the weapon lay out free and ripe for the pick, situated on a silky violet pillow lined in golden tufts. Its beauty overwhelmed him… man, Ikkaku could just picture that glistening blade as it cut through a man's jugular, sliced an arm from its socket, or rang against another with smooth, continuous parries… the thought was almost enough to make him vocalize something more befitting a bedroom context.

But this heist called for absolute silence.

Carefully, slowly, Ikkaku brought his palms underneath the hilt and blade, making sure the sheath came with it as he gave the signal to be lifted up.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the door creaked open up ahead. His heart nearly short-circuited and a chorus of expletives floated down from above. Guards had a tendency to show up at exactly the wrong time in his experience. "Hey!" one of them shouted in Ikkaku's direction as blades sang free across the room.

The thief merely smiled, tucked the stolen goods under his arm, and gave a salute while he rose to safety.

"WOOO, we did it!" he laughed hysterically at the others' terrified expressions. They bounded off the roof and down a cobblestone street toward the bridge ahead. "Come on, you guys, lighten up!"

"Can it and pick up the pace!" Renji barked, jumping out of his skin as an arrow whizzed past. Ikkaku continued to laugh joyously as they ran through the flurry of deadly weapons, cheering whenever he dodged a particularly close shot. Renji and Iba simply shook their heads in disbelief at what an idiot their companion could be, slamming their feet against the ground with every ounce of strength to clear the bridge before some do-gooder thought to draw it shut.

When all seemed clear, Renji, Ikkaku, and Iba stopped deep in the trees to catch their breath and assess the day's wares. A few tiaras and other jeweled accessories filched from the morning market shined in their satchel, along with their ropes, hooks, and other tools of the trade, but all Ikkaku saw was the magnificent sword. "I'll carry it," he blurted, tightening his grip around the strap.

Renji snorted. "Um, no. Here, let me, you've done enough as it is."

"What?" Ikkaku scowled at him. "It wasn't my fault those guys showed up! Come on, I'm the strongest, I should carry the sword."

"Pfff! Bull shit, man! Here, we'll just take turns. I'll go first." Renji tried to yank it toward himself.

"Leggo of the bag, ass boat!"

"Stop bein' such a -!" Before he could finish what would surely have been a brilliant statement, a horse broke through the layers of brush to their left. Its rider exerted a powerful amount of pressure with his mere existence.

The three thieves stared up wide-eyed at a glorious and terrifying sight. King Zaraki wore a crown of gold, small chains hanging down that jingled to announce his royal badass presence. His wide smile stretched the scar running down his face as he eyed the three miscreants, eager to shred them limb from limb.

On foot he must have been at least seven feet tall. His hands were big enough to crush their heads. A jagged sword longer than the average human arm hung from his belt, flecked in blood no one cared to wash away. His oddly-colored stallion whinnied, stomped, and bared its teeth in agitation.

"HOLY FUCK, RUN!" Iba recovered from shock first, grabbing a handful of Renji's shirt as he turned to flee.

Ikkaku watched King Zaraki's soulless eyes follow them while the man himself stayed perfectly still. It was as if he'd sensed the bald one wouldn't go with them. His grin grew all the wider as his gaze fell back to Ikkaku, growling low and deep. "Ain't ya gonna run away?"

A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Ikkaku's neck. He gulped dryly. _The warrior king… it's really him! I've always wanted to see him up close, but now… Holy crap, the guy's even bigger than I imagined! _Ever since his younger days, Ikkaku had wished to be a knight in the king's guard. But street-prowling orphans could only dream such things. Standing face to face with the man himself, he wasn't sure how to feel anymore – other than petrified and overpowered. Should he fight him? That was all it took to enter the guard, but such a risk was probably not worthwhile anymore. He'd stolen something quite valuable. The king was reputed to dismiss actual laws when it came to fighting, but this may have been the exception, by the murderous aura he emanated.

Zaraki's eyes fell upon the satchel Renji had left dangling from the other's hand. Ikkaku glanced down as well, bringing it up closer as if he'd never seen it before.

"Come on now," the king rumbled, holding out a scarred and powerful hand. "Give me my son's sword."

That did it. Ikkaku realized he had three choices: run away and look weak but live long enough to grow strong, stay and be slaughtered by the king or his guards for pride's sake, or hand the sword over and live the rest of his days in a dungeon. None sounded appealing but only one involved more time with that incredible weapon.

Zaraki was growing impatient. Ikkaku made to hand him the satchel, but swung it across his horse's eyes last second. The beast cried out in dismay and reared back, giving him just enough distraction time to run blindly into a nearby thicket.

The king's loud curses followed him through the thorns and bramble. Hoofbeats thundered behind him as the vegetation gave way to open land and Ikkaku sprinted toward an outcropping of rock, overgrown with lush green vines. The guards' voices seemed to come from every direction. _Shit, shit, shit_, he thought to himself, sidling along the flat surface. With the next round of shouting and stomping so close by, he considered whipping his new sword out to fight. Go down like a real man.

But the rock gave way before anything so idiotic could come to fruition.

Confused, Ikkaku jerked his feet under the hanging wall of vine through which he'd just tumbled. Hooves and feet rushed past unaware. Somehow he'd ended up in a small cave, manmade by the looks of it, as if someone had drilled through the rock's and underground. _Yes! Man, I'm so lucky! _Ikkaku enthused, raising a fist to whatever higher power had just granted him such a great stroke of fortune. Too bad there was not enough room inside to do his lucky dance.

Going back out there was practically suicide, so both man and satchel had to squeeze through a dark and narrow tunnel that stretched nearly ten yards. Ikkaku was filthy and exhausted by the time he reached daylight on the other side. He had to toss the satchel to get free, but, after crawling through the exit himself, it was nowhere to be seen.

"…Oh no," the terrified thief nearly shat bricks when he realized his mistake. Outside the tunnel was an embankment leading nowhere but down. A few frantic moments of searching finally brought relief when he saw the bag lying tiny and alone beneath the stone wall, studded with greenery and what seemed to be… grips?

Ikkaku's jaw slowly fell open. First the tunnel and now a series of wooden grips arranged to climb the rocky face. It would be a long drop and a quick death if he slipped, and the grips were already overgrown with moss and rot. He swallowed and took a deep breath to steady himself. _It's this or givin' up_, he told himself, _and I ain't leavin' that sword behind for shit_. He spat and rubbed his hands together before turning to make a tentative step.

Shoes only got in the way. He eventually tossed them, trying not to watch as they made the trip down. It was an arduous task, but finally he reached the halfway-point.

"Huh," he said to himself as each step seemed to get more and more dry and natural. "This ain't so h-HOLY MOTHER OF SHITTING FU-" the ground stopped his sentence short.

Well, that was one way to finish a downward climb more quickly. One moment he'd been upright and the next he was staring at a blue, blue sky with sharp pain radiating through his back and ass. Having the breath knocked out of him was better than dying, but as soon as strength returned he rolled over and tossed the faulty grip as far as it could go. As he glared at the sailing chunk of wood, something even more breathtaking than the prior experience caught his eye.

Just down a grassy hill, past some trees and bushes on a smooth field of green, stood a massive stone pillar supporting a quaint abandoned house. He knew it was abandoned because vines seemed to inhabit every crevice, including the upper window, crawling all the way down its insanely tall base. Whoever had created that elaborate passage must have lived there ages ago and long since passed on.

_Jackpot_.

Ikkaku swiped the satchel from its resting place, took a quick glance inside, and limped his way toward the imposing structure. Already he pictured what sort of antique riches might be up there, ripe for the filching. Even if the place was empty it could provide shelter while he waited for the guards to lose his trail. In the meantime, it seemed as good a place as any to practice with the brand new blade.

First things first, though; he had to find a way inside.

Breeze made the vines rustle against their stony host as he circled and circled to find entrance. There were no doors, and no grips either. One tug at the vines told him they weren't strong enough to hold weight. The wall scratched his palms painfully as he pushed in random places all around, trying to discover some hidden passageway – how could someone live up there?

When he craned his neck beneath the overgrown balcony, splashes of color caught his eye. Squinting, Ikkaku could make out what appeared to be painted designs of vine and flower joining the natural stuff along its rails. He laughed breathily to himself. Man, if only he could get up there, he could enjoy a view ten times better than the one from this morning, and live in solitude to train. Goals that once seemed impossible were already creeping back in without those killjoys around. He cared about Renji and Iba, sure, but they'd be better off without him and he'd been wanting to branch off for quite some time now. No one would need him, no one would ask him for anything, no one would stop him from his dream.

His fingers danced across the stolen sword poking out from the satchel. They wouldn't miss something like this. In fact, he knew they'd planned to sell it and this was the perfect opportunity to not only stop that travesty but take it for himself. A weapon so fine deserved a wielder to match.

Still gaping at the balcony rail, the obvious solution finally popped into Ikkaku's mind. He stepped back and pulled lengths of rope from the satchel, along with three hooks to fasten together. He'd be up there in no time, and leave all annoying problems behind.

High above the clueless thief, Yumichika sat curled in his bed with tear-dampened cheeks and a heart full of sorrow. What was he thinking, that after Father Mayu left he'd leap from the tower and just appear in the right place? Every time he ventured toward the balcony, a gripping fear stopped him from going through with the plan. There was no plan to begin with; he'd assumed it would all fall into place once he got outside, but taking that first step was far too difficult. His father was right when he'd called him weak and feeble-minded. Out there, he had no chance of survival by himself. If only Father Mayu had agreed to take him…

"Oh well," he sighed to himself, brushing away a fresh round of tears. "At least I can enjoy the lights tonight… alone."

_Thump_.

Yumichika rolled his eyes and stuffed a pillow over his head. The deer that frequented this spot had been noisier than usual today.

_THUMP._

Yumichika's pillow rolled to the floor as he sat up, heart contracting with an iron fist. From his vantage point, a foreign object was visibly twitching over the balcony rail, and with each movement came an increasingly loud thump against the tower's side. Panic set in quickly as he realized what must have been happening. "Oh no, oh no," he gasped, starting a frantic search for something to defend himself from whatever sort of monster was about to enter his home. "I never should have sent Father Mayu away! What is wrong with me?"

Now was not the time to think rationally. Instead, he gripped a nearby book and hid behind a wooden support beam to wait.

Ikkaku, meanwhile, finally reached the balcony and heaved himself over the rail. Panting from exertion, he pulled the rope back up and stuffed it into the satchel before slinging it over his shoulder. It had been a rough climb, but he made it, and when he stood to assess the place it was cluttered with all kinds of cool junk! Fabric, clothes, gadgets, tools, eclectic decorations, paintbrushes… paint… bread?… a bowl of fresh water…

His smile faltered into a confused gape. _Wait a second_… Ikkaku's narrow eyes found a long trail of purple silk draped over banisters, pooled on the floor, and realized what it really was just in time for a blunt object to come flying at his forehead with great force. Everything went black.

* * *

Yumichika stood with one arm outstretched, having just whipped a book at the intruder with surprising accuracy. He now lay facedown on the floor now, the contents of his satchel spilling out all over. Still recovering from shock, Yumichika took a few tentative steps forward and used his foot to pull the bag toward himself. He made sure to avoid the unmoving figure close by, grimacing at its shiny bald head.

Jewels glittered amongst the rope and rusty hooks. Yumi crouched down and began to sort through the goods out of curiosity, captivated by the fancy trinkets and totally confused by the pile of damp ropes and rusty hooks.

After fitting himself with a few bracelets and then tossing them aside for being to gaudy, he picked up the sword and turned it side to side. Its scabbard slid off easily in his hand, revealing the impeccable blade within. He gasped softly at the sight, twisting it this way and that until his eyes stared back from the reflective surface. Nothing else in the bag was quite so beautiful. He stood before a full-length mirror and held the sword aloft, tossing its sheath aside and trying out a few poses. He thought of the valiant warriors and princes who rescued fair maidens from harm with their swords. Most books just showed pictures; he tried to imitate them, gripping the hilt with both hands and spreading his feet apart. A smile broke across his face like the sun. He looked _good_ holding that sword, and felt good too.

But this sword belonged to an outsider, someone who would probably use it to gut him if he wasn't careful. Father Mayu's lab would be the perfect place to hide the sword, since there were so many odd compartments and nooks in there. He crept in, feeling rebellious just for entering the forbidden space (which he did quite often anyway), and placed the naked blade under a latched strip of wood. He was arranging some lab tools on top when a moan came from outside the room.

Yumichika gasped and rushed across the room, picking up the sword's sheath on his way and holding it out in defense. He watched, but the trespasser remained stock still.

He weighed a ton, but Yumichika managed to lift him into a chair and wrap the ropes around him over and over. With a tight knot a the back, his work was done. Now the question remained: what should he do with this strange person?

After staring at him for several seconds, Yumichika's fear began to subside. He realized the outsider was nowhere near as beastly as he should have been, based on Father Mayu's descriptions. Tilting his head downward, he moved just close enough to poke the man with the sheath, lifting his chin to assess his unconscious face. He had to admit it wasn't totally hideous either. A bald head really suited him, as did the red markings on each eyelid. Yumichika used the sheath to lift his upper lip, and drew back in surprise when he saw straight white teeth and soft pink gums instead of gnarled, bloody fangs.

"Who are you?" he whispered, but the man was out cold. It would be unwise to let his guard down anyway, as Father Mayu had once warned him that some monsters pretended to be innocent and only showed their true colors when they spied a worthy conquest.

No longer afraid or willing to wait a moment longer, Yumichika moved behind his captive and shook the chair until he began to react. "Guh… what? Huh, w-where am I?" came the gruff voice, groggily registering the fact that his hands and feet were tied.

Through blurry vision, he watched a figure move into view. With a few tight blinks the picture came further into focus: a person, gender indecipherable, stood with arms hanging limply and a blank expression. Ikkaku tried to figure out what exactly he was looking at. Whoever this person was, their image certainly fit the strange and nonsensical location, draped in an off-white robe with forest green leaves and dark red flowers embroidered throughout. His hopes of solitude and peace had been dashed, but at least what waited up here wasn't boring. The person's head connected to a seemingly endless length of violet hair the same color as their piercing eyes.

"Um," Ikkaku began, struggling slightly against his restraints. "This kind of thing ain't exactly my cup of tea. Sorry to disappoint you, honey."

Yumichika's brows nearly connected. "'Honey'?" He made a face. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? I won't give in to sweet talk."

Ikkaku's mouth hung open dumbly. "Are you a dude or a chick?" was the first question that came to mind after hearing the person's voice.

"What?"

"Male or female," Ikkaku clarified impatiently.

Yumichika crossed his arms. "Male, female, neither, both… what does it matter? I suppose you want me to think you're some normal everyday man, but as I said before, I'm not stupid." He gripped the sheath in both hands and began to pace, holding his makeshift weapon out defensively. "What are you really? A goblin? A warlock? A werewolf, or maybe a snake in human disguise?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" Ikkaku blurted. He struggled against the ropes again, scooting a bit to the side. "Just let me out of this chair and I…" It was then that he noticed the sheath in his captor's hand, and anger gripped his chest. "Hey, where's my sword?"

A smirk pulled at Yumichika's lips. "Oh, you mean the weapon with which you meant to slay me? I hid it."

"WHAT? Give it back!" Ikkaku jerked his arms upwards but the rope was far too tight. He watched as the other backed away in fear, hand fumbling for a better weapon amongst the kitchen tools, and it became agonizingly clear what kind of person he was dealing with. They were obviously a total nut job, blabbering about monsters and humanoid snakes, suspicious of him and probably scared enough to take his life if it came to that. _Fuck_, he thought to himself. _I shoulda' just fought the king if I was gonna die anyway._

"Okay, okay," Ikkaku spoke in a patronizing tone to calm Yumi down. "I ain't gonna do nothin', I just want to get free. Can you cut these ropes for me with that knife you got there?" He nodded at the other's hand, now gripping a carving knife with white knuckles.

Yumichika shook his head. "You'll just rip out my intestines with your retractable claws."

Ikkaku sighed deeply, hanging his head. _Jeez_. "I don't have any claws, alright? I ain't no monster, either, so just let me go and I'll be out of your hair." He wondered if that phrasing was a mistake.

"How can I know you're telling the truth?" Yumichika asked. He was afraid, but also strangely excited, curious, and looking for any excuse to avoid conflict.

"Because… um…" Ikkaku bit his lip in thought. "Would a monster be walkin' around with stolen crowns, a sword, and grappling hooks? Nah, he'd be walkin' around with human heads and probably has wings to fly into towers like this. He wouldn't need any of my stuff. And if I did have sharp claws, wouldn't I have cut the ropes and eaten your guts by now? I'm tellin' ya, I'm just some guy. My name's Ikkaku Madarame. You've probably heard of me, actually. I'm pretty famous, ya know, pretty much the best thief in town." He paused. "But I won't steal any a' your stuff, you can keep everything in that bag – just let me have my sword. I won't leave without it, but I won't hurt ya with it. In fact, you can just throw it to me when I get down, okay?"

Yumichika paused for a long while to consider his words. It all sounded perfectly reasonable – in fact, more reasonable than anything he'd expect from an outsider. This man may have been a bit dirty and disheveled, but his hard face was handsome, his eyes were true, and a sheen of nervous sweat covered his skin. His clothes were well-fitted and a pair of leather gloves adorned his hands, untorn by claws and free of bloodstains. Had Father Mayu been wrong after all? If so…

An idea bloomed in Yumichika's mind. He placed the knife down and pulled his hand away from it in a show of solidarity, stepping toward Ikkaku with false confidence. "No."

Ikkaku's face paled. "No? What? But… come on, what more do I have to do ta prove I ain't dangerous?"

Yumichika poked Ikkaku's chest with the sheath, bringing his face down to level. "Take me outside."

"Say huh now?"

"You're going to escort me to the floating lights as my bodyguard, and then, tomorrow, you'll get me safely back to the tower and have your little sword."

"Or, here's a better idea: you give it to me now so I don't have to tear this place apart."

Yumichika jabbed the sheath in further. "I know every inch of this tower like the back of my hand. You can search and search for the rest of your days, but I promise, without my help, you'll _never_ find it." That was a load of bull shit, but Ikkaku seemed to buy it easily enough.

He waited for a better idea, but none came. This person was clearly desperate to see – what, the floating lights? It made no sense, but nothing about the long-haired freak really did. "What's so important about seein' those stupid lanterns?" Ikkaku asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I knew they were lanterns," Yumi mused aloud. He then faced Ikkaku with renewed vigor. "Why do they float? What do they mean?"

"The king and queen do it for their kid every year," Ikkaku explained. "Where the fuck have you been? Everybody knows that."

Yumichika's eyes widened like saucers. King? Queen? Prince? Just like in the storybooks! He had no idea there really were such people. Father Mayu wasn't much for discussions about government or the outside world in general, only to dissuade his son by describing the evil people and monsters prowling about. Whoever this 'Ikkaku' was clearly knew more about the outside than Father Mayu wanted him to know.

It would be difficult, but he couldn't let this chance pass by. Even knowing the lights weren't really his, that they were just a celebration for some prince, didn't deter him. He wanted, _needed_ to see the outside world at least once, and a lifelong dream was not so easily squashed. "You'll take me," he demanded, ignoring Ikkaku's earlier quip. "We both have something to gain here. I know it might sound crazy, but all my life I've wanted nothing more than to go out there and watch the lights from below. It's my one and only dream, and today's my birthday! In two days, my father's going to come home, and he won't let me leave no matter what. Please, Ikkaku; I'll give you the sword, the things you stole, and anything else you want from this place, if you'll only take me outside and keep me safe for one night."

Ikkaku blinked. He wanted to protest, but something about the weirdo's story hit home. He, too, had a dream, and could certainly respect desperation when the only opportunity to reach it finally arose. His own dream involved that sword, and if he wanted it back, he had to give this kid what he wanted first. "How'm I supposed to protect ya without a weapon?" he asked.

Yumichika went to work untying the rope silently, and once Ikkaku's hands were free, he tossed him the empty sheath. "You're the best thief in town, remember? That should do."

Ikkaku rolled his eyes and scrambled to his feet, rubbing the sting from his wrists. "Fine. I'll take ya to see the stupid lanterns, but when we get back here, you follow your side of the deal or we're gonna have a problem." He slid the scabbard through his belt. It was made from hard wood and could probably work for defense against common scoundrels, but he couldn't imagine facing a real sword with such pitiful means.

"Don't worry. I'm a man of my word." Yumichika held out his hand and they shook on it.

Ikkaku then watched in disturbed fascination as the other gathered up his several feet of hair and went to work looping it around the outer banister. "What's your name anyway?" he asked, approaching him warily.

"Yumichika." He tugged the violet locks for good measure, then met Ikkaku's intrigued gaze. "Well, let's go. If I don't get to the lights before nighttime, you can kiss your precious sword good bye."

* * *

_to be continued_


End file.
